The Whole Truth
by Books In the Blood
Summary: Stranded on an alien planet, Clara leaves the TARDIS for a night out. When she comes back, drunk and upset, she reveals more to the Doctor about her feelings than she ever has and the Doctor has to choose between doing what he really wants to do and what's right and best for Clara.


"There you go, old girl. How's that?" the Doctor asked, giving the TARDIS an affectionate pet on the console as he closed the panel after completing his repairs. The lights in the console room flashed as if in approval and the Doctor smiled back at her as he suppressed a rare yawn, feeling the previous days of fatigue set in.

It had been a relativity quiet few days with the TARDIS out of commission. He'd had to do extensive repairs and he and Clara had been affectively grounded. After three days cooped up in the TARDIS, Clara had said she needed to get out. She had tried to convince the Doctor to go with her, just to have a break but the Doctor couldn't relax and rest easy until the TARDIS was well again. Now, with the TARDIS well, he could relax and in so doing he could feel how tired he was. He was set on going to bed but lingered in the console room, waiting for Clara; he knew she wasn't expecting him to wait up on her but he still felt like he needed to for some reason.

The Doctor had almost given up waiting on her when he heard a thumping sound against the door of the TARDIS. Looking around the console room and then back at the door the Doctor braced himself; no one knocked on the TARDIS so who could it be?

The Doctor walked to the door and tentatively opened it; a second later he nearly collided with Clara who fell into the TARDIS.

"Clara? What are you doing?" the Doctor asked in bewilderment as Clara fell onto the floor of the TARDIS like a sack of potatoes, giggling like it was a joke.

"Your TARDIS wouldn't let me in "Clara said, sitting up on the floor and putting her hands on hips in her usual bossy way.

"Of course she wouldn't. Why didn't you use your key?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clara looked down and around, her head whipping around sporadically before falling on the TARDIS key around her neck. "Oh yeah!" she said, holding the key up as if it was a shiny new toy she had just discovered, dissolving into a fit of giggles again.

The pieces slowly began to fall into place. "Are you drunk?" the Doctor asked. When Clara had said she was going out into the town he hadn't thought this is what she meant.

"No, of course not" Clara said. She got off the floor, standing up and swaying in a very unconvincing manner. "Just had a few…" She grabbed onto the railing for support, staring into the TARDIS console like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Few what? Glasses of wine? Shots of Sontaran whiskey? Makes a difference" the Doctor said with a mild smile.

"Something blue" Clara said breezily, spinning around in a circle before grabbing back onto the rail.

"Oh, that's helpful" the Doctor said with a huff. It could have been a hundred alcoholic drinks he could name.

"Well, I couldn't say no, could I? When all those delightful gentlemen at the bar were buying them for me?" Clara asked with a small wink that made the Doctor feel uneasy.

The Doctor frowned; Clara was flirty and definitely outspoken when it came to meeting people but this wasn't normal behavior even for her. The Doctor had seen her drink before but he'd never seen her drunk, which she very clearly was now. "You accepted drinks from total strangers on an alien world?" the Doctor asked, alarmed that Clara wasn't being her normal sensible self.

"They weren't total strangers; we'd been talking all night" Clara tried to defend, taking her hands off the bar and grabbing back on quickly when she realized she needed it to keep her upright.

"Clara, are you alright?" the Doctor asked. He wasn't the best with noting abnormal human behavior but even he knew this was strange and cause for alarm.

"Couse I am…..why wouldn't I be?" Clara asked.

"I just thought…well, you aren't acting like yourself" the Doctor said. "This is a bit…too laid back for you"

Clara let go of the bar and fell into the floor which only elicited laughter. "Maybe I just decided to have some fun" she said overly defensive. "Maybe I just needed to go out. Been quite a while since Danny, you know"

The Doctor cringed internally. He felt bad for Mr.P.E., really he did; the whole Cyberman business and all. But was it still a thing? Were they going to have to 'talk' about it? "Oh, thinking about him, were you?" the Doctor asked. Clara was too wasted to notice his visible twitching.

Clara didn't even look at him; she was staring down at her lap, playing with the end of her skirt. Her laughing had stopped and she suddenly looked sad. "I really wanted to like Danny and I'm sorry that he got caught up in all my madness" she said, as if talking to no one in particular. "But I didn't….I wanted to like him but he knew. He always knew…every time I was with him, I was imagining it was you."

The Doctor felt a rush of blood to his cheeks, a ridiculously human response. Clara was so drunk she couldn't possibly understand what she was insinuating. Part of him selfishly wanted to believe that Clara did mean what she said; that she had always cared for him. It had hurt him more than he wanted to admit when Clara had pushed him away, newly regenerated and vulnerable, for Danny. But she was drunk and she wouldn't be telling him this otherwise.

"Clara, I think you need to go to bed" The Doctor said gently, skimming over the embarrassing remark.

Clara looked up at him as if just noticing he was there. "I don't need to go to bed" she said like a stubborn child, frowning at him.

"I think you do" the Doctor insisted. "You are the point of intoxication where you're starting to share things you might not want to share otherwise"

Clara opened her mouth to argue but the Doctor lifted her up before she could. He lifted her over his shoulder with some difficulty but he was glad when she crumpled against him and didn't fight him.

The Doctor carried her down the hallway toward her room, Clara quietly muttering "Not tired, put me down" the whole time.

They were almost to her room when Clara's small fists pummeled him in the back hard. "Put me down!" she said with much more force.

"You are going to bed" the Doctor said with mild irritation. He was beginning to feel sorry for whoever had to care for Clara as a stubborn child.

"I'm going to get sick" Clara said with desperation in her voice.

The Doctor put her down so quickly she half fell, half crumpled to the floor. "Well, don't do it on me" the Doctor said in revulsion. He noted a small trash can the TARDIS must have placed by him and thrust it at Clara, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Clara took the trash can just in time to plunge her head inside and get sick; the Doctor fought the urge to run away. Humans could really be so gross….

When Clara stopped gagging, she dropped the trash can and began to cry. The Doctor sighed, feeling his repulsion ebb away into sympathy. Why would anyone do this to their self? Clara rubbed her eyes as she cried in a whiny, childish way, overly dramatic for the current situation.

"Oh, come now; stop that" the Doctor said, trying to sound encouraging instead of annoyed. "You're alright. It's alarmingly normal for humans to spit up. You're okay"

"I'm not" Clara whined, crying harder. The Doctor was sure that she wanted him to ask why she wasn't alright but he didn't. He kept thinking of what she had said about Danny and him and he wasn't sure he wanted to go down that road. Obviously something had prompted this episode but he needed to talk to her about when she was sober and in control of herself. At least one of them had to be in control for that conversation.

"Come on" the Doctor said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. He put an arm under her legs and one behind her back, lifting her back up. By the time they had made it to her bedroom, he was glad to see that Clara had mostly calmed down and was looking tired.

The TARDIS had made Clara's room ready for sleep, the Doctor was glad to see; twinkling lights on the ceiling, her bedcovers turned down, a pitcher of water, aspirin and another trashcan by the bed. The Doctor carried Clara to her bed and gently laid her in the middle. Her eyes were closed as he took off her shoes for her and pulled the covers up to her chest. The Doctor was glad to see that Clara would be ready to go to sleep without much effort.

"Here, drink some of this before you go to sleep" the Doctor said, pouring Clara a glass of water and helping her sit up "You'll be glad you did in morning."

Clara took the glass and downed it quickly. "Thank you….."She said quietly as she set the cup down. When she looked back at the Doctor, her lip trembled a bit as if she was going to start crying again; the Doctor hoped she wouldn't. She still had the wet tracks of her previous tears on her cheeks, completely untouched or wiped away.

Without even realizing it, the Doctor reached up a hand and wiped the tears away with his thumb. Clara hardly ever cried and she never did without good provocation; he suddenly felt an aching in his hearts for her. "What made you so sad?" the Doctor asked, more to himself than to Clara really but her eyes were on his as his hand continued to wipe away the wet lines on her cheeks.

Clara stared back at him, her mouth open but not speaking. She seemed surprised; somehow she was surprised that he could see her pain. But after a long pause, she still didn't speak. Instead, she kissed him.

For a moment, the Doctor allowed himself to have it. Clara's lips on his felt like an electric touch to him. How long had he gone without a touch like this? How long had it been since he'd let someone touch him? Let her touch him? It was such a short time for him but it felt like years, felt like a life time…it was a whole body ago to him and that made all the difference. Before, he'd been a child with the body of an adult; Clara desired him but he had no idea what to do. After he regenerated, he was born broken and wrong; at least that was how he felt. He insulted her and pushed her away because it was the only way to deal with all his new, adult feelings and her suddenly pushing him away. To have her now, kissing him, lips on his, giving a small moan into his mouth was almost too good to resist. Maybe he wasn't broken after all.

But after he emerged from the surprise of it all, the Doctor could see it was wrong. The faint taste of alcohol, the tears on Clara's cheeks…he couldn't do it this way.

The Doctor gently pulled away from Clara who tried to follow his lips. She was leaning toward him, lips out as her eyes opened. "Doctor….." Her voice was husky and low and it made the Doctor ache in ways he'd long forgotten he could feel.

Biting back desire painfully, the Doctor pushed Clara away from him kindly. "Clara, you're drunk. You don't know what you're doing" he said slowly, hoping she'd understand and not get upset. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

"But I do know what I'm doing, Doctor" Clara insisted, looking at him darkly, trying to lean forward again. "Please…. _I want you_."

"You…..you don't really mean that" the Doctor said with a shaky, nervous laugh. He was trying to tell himself that as much as he was telling her, lest his body get overly excited. She didn't really want him; how could she? It was the drink talking.

"I do…can't you see?" Clara said passionately, her eyes widening and looking like a stranger mixture between desire and sadness. "It scared me and I tried to fight it but I couldn't. Not with Danny…..not with anyone else. It always comes back to you, Doctor. No matter who else I try to want I just want you. I need you…..Please need me too"

The Doctor didn't know what to say. In the moment he was frozen, trying to figure out what to say, Clara pulled her shirt off and slid onto his lap with ease.

 _Gods, he needed her more than she could understand…._ She was more beautiful in that moment than he had ever seen her, more skin shimmering under the twinkling lights than he had ever been able to see of hers, the lace of her bra shiny red like his coat he liked so much, hair falling across her face, pleasant weight of her in his lap.

The Doctor's hands gripped Clara's arms as she looked back at him with desire. He must have pressed too hard because she whimpered, a sound so needy it awakened a darkness in him that made him do it again.

It could be easy….he could say yes. She wanted him and something of him wanted her. She was so drunk she probably wouldn't even remember it tomorrow. He could do it maybe even get away with it…that darkness he kept inside of him locked away knocked at his hearts, waiting for him to let it in.

The Doctor closed his eyes and forced himself to fight it. Unbidden, he was sure with the help of the TARDIS, a memory popped into his head. A memory of himself with a different face and a younger crying Clara looking at him.

"How many times have you saved me, Clara? Just this once, just for the hell of it, let me save you. You have to trust me, Clara. I'm real. Just one more step." He had said to her then as she had run to him. She had fallen into his arms, into his embrace as he clung to her. The day she saved his life, all of his lives…..the day she'd collapsed in his arms and he realized she was strength and vulnerability and everything human rolled into one.

The Doctor silently thanked the TARDIS; the memory was enough to shake him right again. He couldn't do this for a million reasons. As much as he desired Clara and she obviously desired him, that didn't out weight the fact that she trusted him. Though she'd grown stronger and more confident since that time, she looked to him with trust. If did this, even if she would never know, it would break their trust and friendship; it would break a part of him he couldn't get back.

With time lord control, the Doctor lifted Clara off his lap and away from him. He grabbed her shirt off the bed and began to slip it back over her head. She didn't attempt to help him as he dressed her again; there were tears in her eyes as he pulled her arms through the sleeves. By the time that he was done, she was crying, silent shaking sobs. The worst kind; the kind you tried and failed to hold back.

"It's true…..it's all true" Clara said so quietly he could barely hear her. "All those insults about my face being too big and looking like a man and needing more makeup…that's really what you think of me. "

Clara lay down on the bed, hiding her face in the pillow, mortified at being turned away. That small action and her words cut the Doctor to his hearts and he knew he deserved it all.

Swallowing back his nerves and telling himself that she probably wouldn't even remember what he'd said even though he wished she would, the Doctor leaned down until his lips were close to Clara's ears. "I can't let you believe that, Clara" he whispered. "One thing you need to know about me, especially since I changed, is that I have been the biggest ass. I said all of those things on purpose to hurt you. None of them are true; they are all lies. It hurt me that you were with him, that you wanted him and not me. I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me and now that I have succeeded I'm not satisfied."

The Doctor leaned and let his lips trace the smallest bit of skin on Clara's temple, relishing it and knowing it might be a long time before he could touch it again. "I'm not saying no because you're not attractive; I'm saying no because I care about you too much to mess it up. Sleep now, Clara. Sleep and forget any of this happened."

….

Before Clara even opened her eyes she felt the thumping of a very noticeable hangover developing. She kept her eyes closed and tried to seek sleep against but when she didn't nod off again she knew she had to face consciousness again.

Clara opened her eyes and squinted against even the smallest bit of light in her room. The pounding in her head increased and she had a very distinct taste in her mouth that told her she hadn't been able to hold her liquor like she normally did. She was struggling to remember the events of the night before when her eyes took in the most unusual sight she'd ever woken up to.

Clara was used to waking up in strange places or to the sight of aliens. But never had she felt as strange as she did this morning, waking up to the sight of the Doctor sleeping in the bed next to her. Why was he here? Clara's mind raced, struggling like mad to piece together the fuzzy events of the night so it would make sense. Holding her breath slightly, Clara peeked under the covers and sighed in relief when she saw that they were both fully dressed; so, nothing too extreme had happened at least. Not that Clara would have minded had it, but…she wanted to be able to remember it if it had. No, nothing quite that sordid had happened.

Clara began to giggle softly despite the fact it hurt her head as she watched the Doctor stir in his sleep. As he rubbed his out of control hair against the pillow he curled up and promptly stuck his thumb in his mouth, sighing contently in his sleep. The Doctor was nothing but an overgrown child; he probably wouldn't have even known what to do if she made a pass at him.

Clara reached over on the bedside table for her phone, promptly taking a picture of the Doctor with it, still laughing. There was so way he'd admit to sucking his thumb unless she had proof. Besides, it was just too cute to not capture it.

As Clara lay back on the pillow to watch the Doctor sleeping, she was beginning to be hit with snapshots of the night before. When she laid her phone back on the table and saw the mass of tissues, water glasses and trash can on the floor it rushed back at her. The attractive strangers at the bar, the drinks…wishing she was with the Doctor instead of them…..more drinks…

Clara felt her cheeks color as she remembered the Doctor carrying her like a child to her room…throwing up right in front of him…crying…Clara knew she'd overdone it but this really was a special kind of embarrassment.

As Clara was slowly beginning to die of embarrassment, she began to have the feeling she _had_ thrown herself at the Doctor. But no…surely she wouldn't…..

"Oh no…."Clara muttered to herself as the image of herself on the Doctor's lap, throwing her shirt off came back to her. She had…she had thrown herself at the Doctor in the most desperate, embarrassing way possible. Surely, she'd had some slightly racy thoughts about the Doctor as she began to drink but she never dreamed, even drunk that she would actually make a pass at the Doctor; the Doctor who so obviously didn't want her affection. The Doctor must have been appalled…Clara began to feel like she was about two inches tall.

 _"_ _I'm not saying no because you're not attractive; I'm saying no because I care about you too much to mess it up. Sleep now, Clara. Sleep and forget any of this happened."_

For once, Clara was glad that a memory of the night came back to her. Clara hadn't forgotten like the Doctor wanted; she remembered. Clara had thrown herself at the Doctor in a most embarrassing way and he hadn't acted like she expected or even like any other man would have. He hadn't made her feel bad and he hadn't taken advantage of her.

 _I care about you too much to mess it up…._ As Clara watched the Doctor, looking so young and peaceful asleep, she felt a swelling in her chest. Not desire like she'd felt clearly last night; this time, it was simply love.

Clara picked up her phone and deleted the picture of the Doctor sucking his thumb; it was the least she could do to pass up a prime chance to make fun of him. That was, after all, exactly what he had done for her last night.

Feeling a burst of affection in her chest, Clara leaned down and laid her head against the Doctor chest, careful not to wake him up.

"You know, Doctor, you're a really good friend and I think I love you" Clara whispered to him in his sleep, equal parts of her whishing he would hear her and that he wouldn't.


End file.
